


Despite everything, it's still you

by xworldofartemisx



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Therapy, fading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xworldofartemisx/pseuds/xworldofartemisx
Summary: -Logan is the first to feel it. It's a splitting headache that spreads to his neck, travelling down his spine and through his limbs.He gasps, his voice strained by pain. “It's happening.”They’re all sat on the couch together and they know what he means. They were just waiting for it to start.-“I cherish you, Spiderling.” He whispers as the pain becomes unbearable and black spots begin to dance in his vision. “And I am so sorry.”-Despite everything, he will always be Thomas Sanders.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Familial DLAMPR, Janus/Patton, Logan/Remus
Comments: 36
Kudos: 110





	Despite everything, it's still you

Logan is the first to feel it. It's a splitting headache that spreads to his neck, travelling down his spine and through his limbs.

He gasps, his voice strained by pain. “It's happening.”

They’re all sat on the couch together and they know what he means. They were just waiting for it to start.

Even Remus has joined, for once perfectly quiet as he sits perched atop the table, swinging his legs back and forth, eyes trailed to the carpet.

Patton clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes squeezing shut and it’s a few moments before he rasps out. “I can feel it too.”

As the pain heightens, so does the fear, and Virgil feels sickening power course through him, awful in its sense of control. It’s the high before he crashes. Between fight or flight, it’s the fight reflex that awakens his skin in flames, a thousand needles pricking his arms and back.

“Fuck.” He manages. “I feel nauseous.”

Patton shuffles closer, wrapping one arm around him and the other around Logan. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’re all here together.”

It goes quiet then, save for Logan’s ragged breathing and the choke whimper that occasionally falls from Patton’s quivering lips.

The air is impossibly still, something peaceful about it as a quiet whisper echoes through the mindscape. _“I’m sorry.”_

It’s Logan who pushes a thought back. _“It’s alright, Thomas. This has always been inevitable. I’m just ashamed we made you repress it this long.”_

Roman cries out then, clutching his stomach and he stumbles.

Before he can fall, however, a pair of arms wraps around him, their grip tight as death and just as inescapable.

“I’ve got you.” Remus whispers as gently as he can before his voice trails off into a yelp. Pain splitting him in half. “We’ve gone through this once, right?” His chuckle it horrifyingly broken. “We can do it again.”

They tumble to the ground together.

For an agonizingly long time, nothing happens.

The clock ticks and each second is like a gunshot, piercing, terrifying and unavoidable.

“Logan?”

“Yes, Remus?” He tries not to let the horror spill into his words but, judging by the way Remus’ face contorts into an expression so tortured, he doesn’t succeed.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I know.” Logan nods and then Remus goes quiet again.

He can’t take it. Remus is never quiet, he isn’t supposed to be quiet. Remus needs to be passion and fire, he’s supposed to thrill and terror, a perfect example of how gorgeous darkness could be. And he thinks, ‘Fuck defenses.’

“I love you too.”

And despite it all, Remus grins, wide and brilliant, the brightness of his eyes dulled by the tears beginning to well up.

“Since we’re saying goodbye.” Virgil sniffs, raising his head from Patton’s chest. “I want to thank you guys.”

“Virgil.” Roman’s attempt at reassurance is cut short when Virgil raises his hand.

“No, I have to say this. Being able to call myself a part of this family- it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you’ve taught me so much I- you gave me back the ability to trust. T-to love. And I love you, all of you, so fucking much it used to scare me.”

“Aw, kiddo.” Patton squeezes him tighter. “We love you too.”

Stammering to his feet, Roman drags Remus with him so he can hold Virgil’s hand as well as his.

Virgil lays his head on Roman’s broad chest, allowing his small frame to feel protected when wrapped under his arm.

Patton runs his hand mindlessly across Virgil’s back, his other hand clutched tightly in Logan’s, the logical Side’s knuckles white from how hard he’s gripping Patton’s warm palm.

Remus finds his brother’s eyes. They don’t need words. Too much time has passed for words to be necessary.

And yet, that time wasn’t enough to say everything they wanted to say.

Memories, both shared and individual, float in the air between them as if they both can see the exact same bittersweet image. A golden crown, a pained scream and then a pair of wide eyes mirroring their own fear.

The rift, as quickly as it came, is sealed when they choose, in that moment of unbearable pain as they stare into eachother’s eyes, to forget the crown and the proud head that wore it.

The air ripples with a quiet swishing sound and they turn to welcome the missing piece of the puzzle.

It’s undeniable that the calmness with which Janus steps in is deliberate.

“It has come to my attention that the choice has been made.”

And that’s where the pretense begins and ends because Patton stands up abruptly, the motion with which he yanks Janus forward even more so, and presses their lips together urgently and yet softly, slowly, as if they have all the time in the world.

Patton smiles through a sob when they pull away. “He’s gonna be okay.”

“I know, Dearest, I know.” Janus wipes Patton’s cheek with the pad of his gloved thumb, the smooth fabric soaking up his tears. “He’ll live a long happy life.”

“I love you, Janus.”

“And I you, my Angel, with all of my cold tired heart.” Janus smiles, eyes narrowing in confusion when it makes Patton frown.

“You don’t have to pretend, Honey. It hurts me too.”

“Damnit.” Janus curses breathlessly and the tears spill, his throat closing and mouth opening in a silent scream as he falls forward into Patton’s awaiting arms. “It’s so horrible.”

“I know.” The moral Side rubs circles on his back, swaying gently from side to side. “I know.”

Then Virgil curses loudly and Patton doesn’t need to turn around to know what’s happened.

Power surges through him momentarily before it dies down and it’s back to the pain. Patton knows.

Logan is gone. He left quietly, barely noticeable, as he did everything else. Even when fading into nothing, Logan made sure not to disturb anyone.

He’s next.

Virgil’s wild eyes meet Janus’ and he asks, shattered beyond repair, “Was there really no other way?”

Janus shakes his head solemnly. “I’m afraid not. This was never a choice between this option and another. It was between taking action and turning a blind eye. And we made the right choice.”

“Then why doesn’t it feel right?” Virgil whimpered.

“Because the right choice is rarely the easiest one and-”

He cuts himself off because Patton squeezes his arm and when he turns he finds a pair of chocolate-chip eyes looking up at him in terror. “Patton?”

The other says nothing, instead pressing a butterfly-soft kiss to his scaled cheek. He smiles afterwards and gives another grateful squeeze to Janus’ arm.

“Patton.” He repeats shakily.

His eyes are a warm as the tears streaming down his face. There’s a tremor that runs across his entire frame but he either doesn’t mind or doesn’t notice because he’s still smiling, his hands gentle as they cup Janus’ cheeks.

His eyes flutter shut before Janus could see the pain that flashes in them. He says, “I love you, kiddos. I’m sorry if I ever made you think any differently.”

And then, he’s gone.

“Patton!” Janus doesn’t care, barely realizes, that he’s screaming. His knees hit the floor. He knew this was coming and yet still it sent a cold shard of ice into his heart, stabbing and twisting until every last bit of agony was drained out him in droplets of red.

After the first blinding flash of horror, all that’s left is bitter numbness. He kneels and he stares, lost without his guiding star.

It’s Virgil’s raspy voice that drags him back to the moment. “Come sit with us.”

He watches his sore body limp and fall onto the couch all the while he’s still stuck kneeling and staring at the empty space where Patton stood moments ago.

Guilt chews at his gut because this was his suggestion.

For the first time, Janus truly feels like a villain. He feels like a murderer and a bastard. Everything is heavy.

Virgil’s hand is ice when it touches Janus shoulder, yanking him back to reality when he wasn’t ready to leave his glass cage of grief there, on the floor, in the corner.

Remus crawls over and curls himself around Janus. “At least you won’t have to live with it for too long.”

As bleak as it is and as inappropriate it’s a truth Janus finds comforting.

No matter how deadly the pain of losing Patton is death will overpower it. It will erase it in a matter of minutes.

Far quicker than Janus was prepared for, Remus’ arms loosen and then disappear completely. He shuts his eyes tightly and refuses to look this time because he knows what he’ll see.

He hears Virgil scream and imagines the terror on his face when he sees Roman’s face turning grey before turning into nothing but cold air.

“I’m sorry I have to leave you alone again.” Janus says, knowing the moment is near. Chills creep up his spine, his legs already numb.

Virgil is shaking.

Janus pulls him in close, running his hands through his violet hair and he holds on tight because this is the first time he’s done this in years. He then squeezes tighter because it’s the last. He’ll never hold this small fragile creature in the safety of his arms, never sacrifice everything for him, they’ll never argue again.

“I cherish you, Spiderling.” He whispers as the pain becomes unbearable and black spots begin to dance in his vision. “And I am so sorry.”

It hurts.

“I-I-….I forgive you.” Virgil stutters and it’s like a blanket that relief hugs Janus comfortingly.

It doesn’t hurt anymore. Instead, it’s very quiet. And he’s finally free. Everything seems to move in slow motion, floating around in dull shades of grey. Time warps into something non-existing as he sits there, numb. Emotionless. Empty.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

He’s free.

Free of the cursed job he had to do, free of his purpose.

Without the connection to Thomas, Janus is utterly pointless and that’s comforting in a beautifully twisted way.

It’s relaxing, knowing nobody needs you and you’ll never had to sacrifice anything again.

He’s finally free.

Pain pulsates through the side of Virgil’s head, pure unfiltered fear rendering his body paralyzed.

He lays down on his back and looks up at the ceiling. And he waits.

It comes quickly, the black abyss of nothing that drags him down, down, down and under, drowning him in inky black silence. He doesn’t struggle against it, not even when he runs out of air and his head begins to spin in panic.

Virgil doesn’t struggle. Instead, he closes his eyes and, following that warm light that resembles the nightlight Patton bought him, he takes flight.

“And, do you feel any progress with the medication?”

Thomas nods to his therapist, worrying his hands together. “Yes, but- uh, I-…”

“What, Thomas? You know by now I won’t judge you for anything you say.” She reassures him with a pleasant smile.

“I miss them.”

Her expression turns knowing. “Ah, I see. That’s perfectly normal, no need to worry. You’ve grown accustomed to them. You’ve considered them your friends for years, from what you’ve told me. And it’s healthy and normal to grieve their loss.”

He nods, the words getting caught up and jumbled in his brain. “I know but- I just-…I feel like I was doing better when I had them.”

“I know, Thomas, but you have to unlearn to rely on them. You need to be able to make decisions instantaneously on your own. Now, of course, you can’t expect to see progress over night and it may often times seem like you’re doing worse than before. That’s okay. What you need to remember is that the right choice is rarely the easy one.”

Thomas chuckles, speaking before he can stop himself. “Janus used to remind me of that.”

“Did he? And, what else would he remind you to do?”

“Take care of myself.” The reply comes instantly. “It was him who persuaded me to start the meds.”

“And what would Janus say now, regarding our current issue?”

Thomas takes a breath and a moment to think and as he does so he can almost see that smirking face standing beside him, he can see the fond roll of his eyes. “Come on, Thomas, you’re smarter than this. You know you mental health must always come first and you know this is the right step towards improving it.”

“It’s just hard.” Thomas can’t remember when he started crying. “It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that everything I believed in for years was-…a lie.”

Janus’ smile is knowing if not regretful. “But you always knew, didn’t you? That it wasn’t real, that it couldn’t possibly be real?” And then he vanishes at the sound of the therapists voice. “You must’ve known.”

“I did. I just didn’t want it to be true and now, suddenly, it is. It’s overwhelming. Virgil would be freaking out.”

Her eyes alight with interest, the therapist asks him, “And what would Virgil say?”

Thomas imagines Virgil sitting beside him, chewing on his nails. “How do you know it’s the right choice? What if it was all a mistake? If you lost us only for your life to become more miserable than ever before?”

Patton is the one to interrupt him. “Hush, Virge, you know that’s not true. JJ said it himself, this is the best way for our kiddo to be happy. He needs to live his life to the fullest on his own, decide on his own. Thomas needs to be in control, not us.”

“I know it’s difficult, Virgil, but our sacrifice was necessary for Thomas to continue to thrive at his full potential!”

“See?” Thomas wants to strangle the therapist for interrupting and making those familiar comforting faces disappear. “You can still access them whenever you’d like, but you’ll be able to distinguish them as thoughts rather than separate entities the longer you take the medication. They are still a part of you, no one can take that away.”

She was right.

No one would take away the way Thomas could leave a crowd breathless with the blazing passion in his eyes and elegant gestures of his hands,  
the way he could be nurturing and kind to his friends when they were in need of his help or how he could be sassy and snarky at times and then in other moments he could be dramatic and impossibly elegant.  
No one would take away the way his thoughts sometimes flowed wildly and unstoppably, creating the most marvelous of ideas.

Despite everything, he will always be Thomas Sanders.


End file.
